2015 was a year I never want to re-live. Although it was filled with many blessings, it was also filled with so many hardships and so much stress. The year started with the beautiful birth of our fourth daughter. Following that was severe anxiety that I never even want to think about having again. Once the anxiety settled, I had my major blood clot. Then came the four months of healing and laying around while my mom ran the house (seriously, thank GOD for that woman). After I was healed there were still tons of doctors appointments to go to, which with 4 children, is a stressful thing. Then came my husband wanting to get out of the Air Force and find a new job. Once the new job was found, we had to get the house ready to sell. Again, add the four homeschooling kids factor and that's not easy. Then, in mid October, Max's dad got very ill.
This is when life should have stopped. Everything else should have been pushed aside, but with a move that had to happen in just a few short months, life felt like a freight train coming towards us that wasn't slowing down no matter what we did. For the next six weeks Max tirelessly spent hours after work and often whole nights at the hospital with his dad, while I got the house ready to sell. At then end of November Max's father past away and for the second time in a year, our hearts felt like they were literally breaking. On the day of his funeral, our house went on the market.
The house sold in only a few days, and this left a few weeks in December to spend time with Max's mom before we moved. Life should have stopped. Max should have had time to mourn and just be, but that's not what God had planned for us.
So now here we are BACK in Oklahoma. We are in a small town about an hour away from the city and anyone I know. And it feels like life has stopped. Completely. We are in a house that doesn't feel like home, in a town that seems to have no friends. The days crawl by. Our support system from the past four years feels like it has been pulled out from under us. I can't remember the last time I just sat at home with my kids and wondered what we were going to do for the day. Now I do it everyday. I know that should feel good after the craziness of last year, but it doesn't. It just feels lonely.
It's easy to look back on 2015 and call it cursed somehow. But if I turn my point of view even just a little, I see the hand of God in all of it. I GOT better. Completely. We have a new healthy member in our family. My mom was physically and emotionally able to take on the very hard task of taking over my home and children. My husband found a wonderful new job by simply tapping on a door that flew wide open. Our house sold in only 4 days. And the blessing that just blows me away: we were able to spend the last four years of Max's father's life with him. Max and his dad worked side by side on some project or another almost daily while we were there. I'll admit that when we talked about moving, we always questioned and wondered what we would do when Max's dad got sick (he had cancer, and we knew eventually he would probably get sick). How would we be there for him and his mom while living 8 hours away? God took care of everything. He put us exactly where we needed to be, when we needed to be there.
Even though this new place feels nothing like home, and I feel completely out of my element and alone, all I can do is trust that I'm in the heart of God's will. Even though the past is heartbreaking to look back on and the future to unsure to ponder, I hope that in the present hardships my heart can only say, "Jesus, I trust in you."
Showing posts with label military life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label military life. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 13, 2016
Sunday, August 9, 2015
Child-Like Trust
There are some big changes happening in our family right now. As if having a baby and getting a massive blood clot in one year wasn't enough, we have also decided to leave the Air Force. This decision didn't come lightly and we had discussed it long before the baby or the clot. If we were staying in the Air Force, we would be moving in February of 2016, so moving was in our future regardless.
Once the decision was made to get out of the Air Force, the next step was for Max to find a job. So we prayed, and we prayed hard. We prayed that God's will would be done in everything. We prayed that He would open doors that needed to be opened and close doors that needed to be closed. Max applied for jobs locally and afar. He is a very smart man: an engineer with a good career. He is very hire-able. With all those applications, only one door was opened. Some of the other doors were blatantly closed in our faces. The door that was opened with perfect ease was for Max's dream job back in Oklahoma City. Even though staying here would have been much easier. I wasn't convinced that the ease of staying made it the right choice. I struggled for a very long time at the thought of leaving family and friends that have become so dear to us, especially in these difficult times. I loathed the thought of all the work that has to be done to sell this house and I cried at thinking of leaving the place where two of our children have been born.
Then, one day, my kids taught me a very good lesson and I was reminded once again why Christ calls us to be child-like. I started telling my kids we might move to Oklahoma and expected high emotions from all of them. Instead they asked a simple question, "will all of us go to Oklahoma?" When the answer was of course, yes, they were perfectly fine with the idea and even started to get excited about the new adventure. Even since that day, they will have momentary sadness about someone they will miss, but in general, all they care about is that Mommy and Daddy are going with them. They trust that we are making a good choice for our family and that we won't leave them.
That got me thinking: I pray for doors to be opened and closed. I pray for God's will to be done and for right decisions to be made. But when that decision is clear, and is the harder of the choices, do I actually trust that God's hand was in it all? Because if I do, then my only response can be the same one my children had. "Ok God, I will go because I trust you know what's best and no matter what, you will stay by my side. And that's all that matters, no matter how much it will hurt to leave family, friends and this house. Are you coming with us God? Yes? Well then o.k. I'll go."
When I got sick, I was stripped of everything. When the talk of moving was coming around, I heard God whisper in my heart, "Don't be attached to anything but me. Not even the place you live. Have I not taken care of you thus far?" I thought that God was done (at least for the present moment) breaking down walls and that new ones were on their way up. But I see now, that even though I am healed from the clot, there is still more He wants to break down, more that needs to be stripped away. And as hard as it is, I KNOW that He is doing this all out of love for me and in answer to my most fervent prayer: that I would be the woman He has created me to be.
In the end we accepted the job in Oklahoma and will be moving in January. There is a lot of work ahead of us in the next few months, and a new life to start in Oklahoma. By the great trusting example my kids have given to me, I pray that the only words on my heart and lips may be, "Jesus, I trust in You".
Once the decision was made to get out of the Air Force, the next step was for Max to find a job. So we prayed, and we prayed hard. We prayed that God's will would be done in everything. We prayed that He would open doors that needed to be opened and close doors that needed to be closed. Max applied for jobs locally and afar. He is a very smart man: an engineer with a good career. He is very hire-able. With all those applications, only one door was opened. Some of the other doors were blatantly closed in our faces. The door that was opened with perfect ease was for Max's dream job back in Oklahoma City. Even though staying here would have been much easier. I wasn't convinced that the ease of staying made it the right choice. I struggled for a very long time at the thought of leaving family and friends that have become so dear to us, especially in these difficult times. I loathed the thought of all the work that has to be done to sell this house and I cried at thinking of leaving the place where two of our children have been born.
Then, one day, my kids taught me a very good lesson and I was reminded once again why Christ calls us to be child-like. I started telling my kids we might move to Oklahoma and expected high emotions from all of them. Instead they asked a simple question, "will all of us go to Oklahoma?" When the answer was of course, yes, they were perfectly fine with the idea and even started to get excited about the new adventure. Even since that day, they will have momentary sadness about someone they will miss, but in general, all they care about is that Mommy and Daddy are going with them. They trust that we are making a good choice for our family and that we won't leave them.
That got me thinking: I pray for doors to be opened and closed. I pray for God's will to be done and for right decisions to be made. But when that decision is clear, and is the harder of the choices, do I actually trust that God's hand was in it all? Because if I do, then my only response can be the same one my children had. "Ok God, I will go because I trust you know what's best and no matter what, you will stay by my side. And that's all that matters, no matter how much it will hurt to leave family, friends and this house. Are you coming with us God? Yes? Well then o.k. I'll go."
When I got sick, I was stripped of everything. When the talk of moving was coming around, I heard God whisper in my heart, "Don't be attached to anything but me. Not even the place you live. Have I not taken care of you thus far?" I thought that God was done (at least for the present moment) breaking down walls and that new ones were on their way up. But I see now, that even though I am healed from the clot, there is still more He wants to break down, more that needs to be stripped away. And as hard as it is, I KNOW that He is doing this all out of love for me and in answer to my most fervent prayer: that I would be the woman He has created me to be.
In the end we accepted the job in Oklahoma and will be moving in January. There is a lot of work ahead of us in the next few months, and a new life to start in Oklahoma. By the great trusting example my kids have given to me, I pray that the only words on my heart and lips may be, "Jesus, I trust in You".
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Time
My husband is gone to a training school for 8 weeks. It's the life of the military and I try not to complain because I have friends who go a year without seeing their husbands. The anxiety of him leaving was worse than actually being alone. I do miss him terribly. The evenings are long and the weekends (all 2 that I have had so far) are longer. Although I miss my husband, I think there is always something to learn in all experiences in life and this time apart is no different. From the moment my husband left, I felt something change in the dynamic between my children and me. It took me several days to figure out why I felt a peace I haven't felt in a long time, and why I was suddenly more patient with my children than I have been in a long time. Then it hit me. Time; for the first time since we moved to this new city I feel like I have time. Time to clean, time to cook, time to exercise, time to play. There are no projects to be finished, guest to have for dinner, shows that must get seen and really no places to go. I'm not saying I wouldn't want my husband to come walking through the door right now. I'm just saying that him being gone has really shown me how rushed and busy our life has become. Slowing down has allowed me to come closer to the mother I want to be. The mother I dreamed of being before I even got married. And I think that when my husband comes home, we can implement this lesson I've learned for the better of our family.
Somewhere along the path in life, my husband and I started thinking that if we weren't doing something "productive" we were wasting time. How wrong we are, and how sad that we can't sit and play with our children without thinking about what needs to get done. How much better would our life be if we were willing to "waste" time on each other and on our children? Time spent with the ones we love is really never wasted, even if what we are doing at the moment has no immediate end product.
When my children grow up, they won't remember if the house was remodeled or even all the people that come for dinner. But they will remember if their mother and father spent time with them, were patient with them and truly took interest in who they were at any given age. I don't want to look back on my life and see my children as a side note in the life I'm living. I want them to be the life I'm living. For the first time (maybe ever) I have started saying yes to my children. Yes to the park. Yes to a game of checkers. Yes to playing soccer outside. Yes to helping me do the dishes. Yes to cracking the egg in the pan. Yes to all the things that seemed torturous to me before. And you know what? It's better. Somehow the dishes still get done, the laundry still gets folded (mostly) and the kids feel loved. Which is what matters most. If it took Max leaving for 8 weeks to teach our family this invaluable lesson, then all the long days and lonely nights will be worth it.
Somewhere along the path in life, my husband and I started thinking that if we weren't doing something "productive" we were wasting time. How wrong we are, and how sad that we can't sit and play with our children without thinking about what needs to get done. How much better would our life be if we were willing to "waste" time on each other and on our children? Time spent with the ones we love is really never wasted, even if what we are doing at the moment has no immediate end product.
When my children grow up, they won't remember if the house was remodeled or even all the people that come for dinner. But they will remember if their mother and father spent time with them, were patient with them and truly took interest in who they were at any given age. I don't want to look back on my life and see my children as a side note in the life I'm living. I want them to be the life I'm living. For the first time (maybe ever) I have started saying yes to my children. Yes to the park. Yes to a game of checkers. Yes to playing soccer outside. Yes to helping me do the dishes. Yes to cracking the egg in the pan. Yes to all the things that seemed torturous to me before. And you know what? It's better. Somehow the dishes still get done, the laundry still gets folded (mostly) and the kids feel loved. Which is what matters most. If it took Max leaving for 8 weeks to teach our family this invaluable lesson, then all the long days and lonely nights will be worth it.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
A Day to Remember
This post deserves a picture. When I tried to take one the batteries had been removed from the camera and we were already running late. This was our first
"real" day in our new lives here in New Mexico. The move went smoothly and was a lot of really hard work. Last week was spent unpacking and getting settled. Today was my husband's first day at his new assignment and Peanut's first day of pre-school. Big day.
Let me back up. When we visited here in November a good friend of mine told me about a newly opened Catholic school that has a pre-K class for three year olds. I had been wanting to put Peanut in a mother's day out program in Oklahoma but was refused because he is not fully vaccinated. Surely the Catholics would understand me not using vaccines with aborted fetal cell tissue. So we looked into it, visited the classroom and fell in love with it all. Our intention is still to home school when our children get older, but this seemed like a good way for Peanut to socialize and learn how to behave in a structured environment. A bonus is that we love his teacher.
So anyways, today was his first day. He was so cute with his little backpack all ready to go. The only problem was Miss Belle thought she was going with him. This entire week, every time the word "school" is mentioned she yells, "ME!!!!" and points to her chest. This morning she got her back pack all ready, because anything Peanut does, she follows. When we dropped him off at school he exclaimed, "I want to stay here at school!" so Miss Belle and I said our goodbyes and ventured back to the car. She was not happy at all. She must have really thought all the "ME!!!"s were going to land her a place in pre-school next to her brother. She cried the whole way home. It was really the first time my children have done something apart from each other that I can remember.
I haven't heard an update on my how my husband's first day is going, but I assume it's going well. Life is starting to feel "normal" here as we settle into a routine. Thank you to everyone who prayed for a safe move and smooth transition.
"real" day in our new lives here in New Mexico. The move went smoothly and was a lot of really hard work. Last week was spent unpacking and getting settled. Today was my husband's first day at his new assignment and Peanut's first day of pre-school. Big day.
Let me back up. When we visited here in November a good friend of mine told me about a newly opened Catholic school that has a pre-K class for three year olds. I had been wanting to put Peanut in a mother's day out program in Oklahoma but was refused because he is not fully vaccinated. Surely the Catholics would understand me not using vaccines with aborted fetal cell tissue. So we looked into it, visited the classroom and fell in love with it all. Our intention is still to home school when our children get older, but this seemed like a good way for Peanut to socialize and learn how to behave in a structured environment. A bonus is that we love his teacher.
So anyways, today was his first day. He was so cute with his little backpack all ready to go. The only problem was Miss Belle thought she was going with him. This entire week, every time the word "school" is mentioned she yells, "ME!!!!" and points to her chest. This morning she got her back pack all ready, because anything Peanut does, she follows. When we dropped him off at school he exclaimed, "I want to stay here at school!" so Miss Belle and I said our goodbyes and ventured back to the car. She was not happy at all. She must have really thought all the "ME!!!"s were going to land her a place in pre-school next to her brother. She cried the whole way home. It was really the first time my children have done something apart from each other that I can remember.
I haven't heard an update on my how my husband's first day is going, but I assume it's going well. Life is starting to feel "normal" here as we settle into a routine. Thank you to everyone who prayed for a safe move and smooth transition.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Oklahoma: The Things I Don't Want to Forget
I will admit first hand that for many of you this post will be boring and possibly not worth reading. It is mostly for myself as I come closer and closer to leaving this place I call home.
The Bad:
Lawn Mowing Mondays: Pretty self explanatory. While it's great that other people mow our front lawn for us every week, it ALWAYS and I mean ALWAYS happens right at nap time. Change naps time you say? Tried that. It doesn't matter when I put them down for naps. Whether it's twelve or two, the mow men come to our yard at that time. And in case you don't know, for a three year old boy, riding lawn mowers are about the most exciting thing ever. Riding lawn mowers can also make the worst come out of mommy when they come at nap time. I would be embarrassed to tell you the many horrid things I have thought of doing to those mowers when they wake my sleeping children...
The Obesity: This is good and bad. Never in my life have I seen so many obese people as I have in Oklahoma. About a year after living here I figured out why there seems to be an obesity epidemic here...it's because they have awesome fried chicken and the weather always sucks so bad you can't go outside to exercise. The upside is, I'm ten pounds overweight and I look like an anorexic compared to most around here.
The Weather: Sometimes exciting, but mostly sucky. Nothing like locking yourself in a closet while tornado sirens sound and the creepy computer weather voice keeps telling you to take shelter. By the way, a closet does not make you feel safe in the midst of a tornado. It's ridiculously hot and humid in the summer (and I'm from the desert, so I know hot) and the winter is filled with a strong wind so cold it literally takes your breath away. Ice storms knock out power for days, and as mentioned before, the spring brings tornadoes. When speaking of the weather in Oklahoma, my husband always says, "If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes and it will change".
The Good:
The Drive to The Farm: About once every two weeks the kids and I take a drive out to a local farm and buy fresh milk straight from the cow. No pasteurization or homogenization, just real whole milk. This milk was my life saver about a year ago, when Peanut was still showing signs of a dairy intolerance and wasn't gaining weight. After almost two years of worrying about his size and calorie intake, this farm came into our lives and relieved so much stress. It's a drive I always look forward to, knowing that I am going to get my children real, healthy and nutritious food from people who work very hard at what they do. A bonus blessing is that the drive itself is beautiful. Tree lined country paved roads all the way, with friendly people who always wave. It's the kind of lifestyle you see in movies but didn't think existed anymore; it does in Oklahoma. This is probably the number one thing I will miss about Oklahoma (besides the people).
The Grounding Tree: There is tree in my backyard, just beyond the fence. It is large and gorgeous and changes with the seasons. When looking out my dining room window, my eyes are automatically drawn to this tree. I can't tell you exactly why, but no matter how bad of a day I am having, looking at this tree always makes it better. It grounds me in a way. I guess in some way it reminds me that life is a long process and it takes many hard years to grow such beautiful branches with fruitful leaves. The flowers are fleeting and die with a simple freeze, but this tree always stands firm.
Living on an Air Force base: As much as I hated the idea almost four years ago, I have come to absolutely love the security and fellowship that comes with living on a military base.
The 5 O'Clock National Anthem: Not many people know this, but every day and 5pm on every military base across the U.S., the National Anthem is played. For the few minutes it is playing, life stops on base. Runners stop running, kids stop playing at the park and cars stop at green lights. Military men and women stand at an attentive salutes and civilians are found with their hands patriotically placed on their hearts. The sight can still bring tears to my eyes. It's a sight that reminds you that maybe their is hope for this country, and maybe there are people out their who love the land of the free and the home of the brave.
The General Conservative Mindset: Never in my life have I seen so many pro-life generally conservative bumper stickers as in Oklahoma. In New Mexico your car is sure to get egged once or twice if you place a conservative bumper sticker on your car. It is so refreshing to see people united in keeping America from becoming socialist and knowing that these people genuinely love this nation. Plus, it keeps mommies road rage waaaay down when I don't have to get angry about a ridiculous Obama "change" bumper sticker in front of me. Oklahoma may seriously be "the reddest state on the map" as they claim.
When we first learned we were moving to Oklahoma neither of us were thrilled. It was not on our "wish list". But, through the months and years we have come to love this place and will genuinely miss it when we leave. I'm sure there is much more I will miss but there is packing to do and no more time to write.
The Bad:
Lawn Mowing Mondays: Pretty self explanatory. While it's great that other people mow our front lawn for us every week, it ALWAYS and I mean ALWAYS happens right at nap time. Change naps time you say? Tried that. It doesn't matter when I put them down for naps. Whether it's twelve or two, the mow men come to our yard at that time. And in case you don't know, for a three year old boy, riding lawn mowers are about the most exciting thing ever. Riding lawn mowers can also make the worst come out of mommy when they come at nap time. I would be embarrassed to tell you the many horrid things I have thought of doing to those mowers when they wake my sleeping children...
The Obesity: This is good and bad. Never in my life have I seen so many obese people as I have in Oklahoma. About a year after living here I figured out why there seems to be an obesity epidemic here...it's because they have awesome fried chicken and the weather always sucks so bad you can't go outside to exercise. The upside is, I'm ten pounds overweight and I look like an anorexic compared to most around here.
The Weather: Sometimes exciting, but mostly sucky. Nothing like locking yourself in a closet while tornado sirens sound and the creepy computer weather voice keeps telling you to take shelter. By the way, a closet does not make you feel safe in the midst of a tornado. It's ridiculously hot and humid in the summer (and I'm from the desert, so I know hot) and the winter is filled with a strong wind so cold it literally takes your breath away. Ice storms knock out power for days, and as mentioned before, the spring brings tornadoes. When speaking of the weather in Oklahoma, my husband always says, "If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes and it will change".
The Good:
The Drive to The Farm: About once every two weeks the kids and I take a drive out to a local farm and buy fresh milk straight from the cow. No pasteurization or homogenization, just real whole milk. This milk was my life saver about a year ago, when Peanut was still showing signs of a dairy intolerance and wasn't gaining weight. After almost two years of worrying about his size and calorie intake, this farm came into our lives and relieved so much stress. It's a drive I always look forward to, knowing that I am going to get my children real, healthy and nutritious food from people who work very hard at what they do. A bonus blessing is that the drive itself is beautiful. Tree lined country paved roads all the way, with friendly people who always wave. It's the kind of lifestyle you see in movies but didn't think existed anymore; it does in Oklahoma. This is probably the number one thing I will miss about Oklahoma (besides the people).
The Grounding Tree: There is tree in my backyard, just beyond the fence. It is large and gorgeous and changes with the seasons. When looking out my dining room window, my eyes are automatically drawn to this tree. I can't tell you exactly why, but no matter how bad of a day I am having, looking at this tree always makes it better. It grounds me in a way. I guess in some way it reminds me that life is a long process and it takes many hard years to grow such beautiful branches with fruitful leaves. The flowers are fleeting and die with a simple freeze, but this tree always stands firm.
Living on an Air Force base: As much as I hated the idea almost four years ago, I have come to absolutely love the security and fellowship that comes with living on a military base.
The 5 O'Clock National Anthem: Not many people know this, but every day and 5pm on every military base across the U.S., the National Anthem is played. For the few minutes it is playing, life stops on base. Runners stop running, kids stop playing at the park and cars stop at green lights. Military men and women stand at an attentive salutes and civilians are found with their hands patriotically placed on their hearts. The sight can still bring tears to my eyes. It's a sight that reminds you that maybe their is hope for this country, and maybe there are people out their who love the land of the free and the home of the brave.
The General Conservative Mindset: Never in my life have I seen so many pro-life generally conservative bumper stickers as in Oklahoma. In New Mexico your car is sure to get egged once or twice if you place a conservative bumper sticker on your car. It is so refreshing to see people united in keeping America from becoming socialist and knowing that these people genuinely love this nation. Plus, it keeps mommies road rage waaaay down when I don't have to get angry about a ridiculous Obama "change" bumper sticker in front of me. Oklahoma may seriously be "the reddest state on the map" as they claim.
When we first learned we were moving to Oklahoma neither of us were thrilled. It was not on our "wish list". But, through the months and years we have come to love this place and will genuinely miss it when we leave. I'm sure there is much more I will miss but there is packing to do and no more time to write.
Monday, January 16, 2012
The House That Became a Home
It's getting closer. Four weeks until my family ventures on to our next Air Force assignment. Two months ago I was anxiously excited to move and have a bigger house (we are living in 1150 sq. ft now with no garage). Now that I am actually starting to pack our things and clean things out, I am more nostalgic than anything. I'm sad to be leaving such great friends, sad to be leaving our first home and sad to be leaving this house that I complain so much about. And while I have complained about being cramped, the smallness of this house has taught me what we can live without and forced me to stay somewhat organized. I will always be thankful for that.
I always forget I don't like change. I'm that girl who sees the giant roller coaster and says, "Yeah let's ride!" and then when I get to the top say, "What was I thinking?!?!" Of course I get on, because who wants to walk all the way back down, but until the last big drop off is finished, I'm questioning why I ever got on.
As stated, our house is small. And old. Very old. There is a sixty year old layer of filth covering it that no amount of elbow grease can scrub clean. In the winter, the windows feel like they are open when they are surely closed. Our furniture doesn't go against the wall because the house is settling so bad that the wall is slanted in. There are huge cracks in the walls and in the living room you can actually see the roof starting to sink in. It's never where I pictured myself living, but over the years, this house has become our home. As much as I have complained about it's problems, it has done so much good for us.
This house is where we learned to be our own family. Where we argued and laughed our way through the first years of marriage. It's where I brought both my little children home for the first time and it's the only home they have known in their short little lives. It's where I cried from being home sick and rejoiced in the fact that we were our own. It's where my children took their first steps, where they learned to be siblings and where they said "mama" for the first time. It's where, on countless nights, my husband and I woke up to sick children and had to laugh at each other or else we would cry. It's where I learned to be a wife and a mother. It has kept us warm in the winter, cool in the summer and the merciless weather of Oklahoma off of our heads. It has been a good home.
This is one of the harder things about being in the military. Making new homes only to leave them a few years later. Always having the thought in the back of your mind that "this is not permanent". That you will have to repaint those walls and take down those pictures in a few short years. Never getting too attached to one place because you know you have to leave. And while I believe that a home can be made anywhere, there is something about the house that makes the home. And the house is always changing. I guess this is also one of the arts of being a military wife; learning to create a new home in new places over and over again for many many years. Making your children feel that, although they aren't walking in the same door, they are coming home. They are coming home because that's where their family lives.
Four weeks and all boxes will be packed. Four weeks and we will say goodbye to the only home this family has known. Four weeks until we begin this new chapter in our lives.
I always forget I don't like change. I'm that girl who sees the giant roller coaster and says, "Yeah let's ride!" and then when I get to the top say, "What was I thinking?!?!" Of course I get on, because who wants to walk all the way back down, but until the last big drop off is finished, I'm questioning why I ever got on.
As stated, our house is small. And old. Very old. There is a sixty year old layer of filth covering it that no amount of elbow grease can scrub clean. In the winter, the windows feel like they are open when they are surely closed. Our furniture doesn't go against the wall because the house is settling so bad that the wall is slanted in. There are huge cracks in the walls and in the living room you can actually see the roof starting to sink in. It's never where I pictured myself living, but over the years, this house has become our home. As much as I have complained about it's problems, it has done so much good for us.
This house is where we learned to be our own family. Where we argued and laughed our way through the first years of marriage. It's where I brought both my little children home for the first time and it's the only home they have known in their short little lives. It's where I cried from being home sick and rejoiced in the fact that we were our own. It's where my children took their first steps, where they learned to be siblings and where they said "mama" for the first time. It's where, on countless nights, my husband and I woke up to sick children and had to laugh at each other or else we would cry. It's where I learned to be a wife and a mother. It has kept us warm in the winter, cool in the summer and the merciless weather of Oklahoma off of our heads. It has been a good home.
This is one of the harder things about being in the military. Making new homes only to leave them a few years later. Always having the thought in the back of your mind that "this is not permanent". That you will have to repaint those walls and take down those pictures in a few short years. Never getting too attached to one place because you know you have to leave. And while I believe that a home can be made anywhere, there is something about the house that makes the home. And the house is always changing. I guess this is also one of the arts of being a military wife; learning to create a new home in new places over and over again for many many years. Making your children feel that, although they aren't walking in the same door, they are coming home. They are coming home because that's where their family lives.
Four weeks and all boxes will be packed. Four weeks and we will say goodbye to the only home this family has known. Four weeks until we begin this new chapter in our lives.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
The Lord Giveth and The Lord Taketh Away
I never really understood that verse fully until I became part of the military family. Lately, it seems the Lord has done a lot more taking than giving. I feel as though He is stripping me from all comforts, all companions at this time in life.
I haven't made many friends in my short time in Oklahoma. I am somewhere in between an extrovert and introvert. I'm not the type that just goes up to someone and tells them my life story, but will definitely talk if someone initiates. In the past years, I have grown tired of "becoming friends" with people who I can't talk to about real issues (i.e. my faith) and have to keep my mouth shut around. This has been a big part of my lack of friends in this area. I have, however, made two very good friends while I have been here. The kind who go through life with you. The kind you can call just because your day has been really crappy. The kind that you can share a little piece of your soul with.
The Lord, in his wisdom, has decided to take both these people away from me at around the same time. As my husband talks of future deployment and both my true friends start preparing for their new life, I am left here. Alone. I don't fear many things, but to be completely and totally honest, I fear loneliness. One of these friends once prayed so beautifully, "Don't give me family, O God, but make me an orphan. So that in my lonliness, I may learn to turn to You for comfort." I wish I could pray these words with sincerity. What I really want to say is, "Why Lord? Why do you take them from me? Humans need companionship like they need air. Are you sure you know what you are doing?"
The military is a funny thing in that, whatever friends you make, you know with certainty you will have to say goodbye to them. It's like this constant, dreary, anxious cloud that hangs over your head, knowing these people, this life you have made in this city, will be incredibly short lived. Right when you feel rooted somewhere, those roots are pulled from under you. I do trust the Lord, though. I do. I may not understand His reasons, but I trust them. He will take care of me. In my loneliness and search for new friends, He will be my companion and guide. If I can not be rooted in a permanent home, I will have to root myself deep in Him.
I haven't made many friends in my short time in Oklahoma. I am somewhere in between an extrovert and introvert. I'm not the type that just goes up to someone and tells them my life story, but will definitely talk if someone initiates. In the past years, I have grown tired of "becoming friends" with people who I can't talk to about real issues (i.e. my faith) and have to keep my mouth shut around. This has been a big part of my lack of friends in this area. I have, however, made two very good friends while I have been here. The kind who go through life with you. The kind you can call just because your day has been really crappy. The kind that you can share a little piece of your soul with.
The Lord, in his wisdom, has decided to take both these people away from me at around the same time. As my husband talks of future deployment and both my true friends start preparing for their new life, I am left here. Alone. I don't fear many things, but to be completely and totally honest, I fear loneliness. One of these friends once prayed so beautifully, "Don't give me family, O God, but make me an orphan. So that in my lonliness, I may learn to turn to You for comfort." I wish I could pray these words with sincerity. What I really want to say is, "Why Lord? Why do you take them from me? Humans need companionship like they need air. Are you sure you know what you are doing?"
The military is a funny thing in that, whatever friends you make, you know with certainty you will have to say goodbye to them. It's like this constant, dreary, anxious cloud that hangs over your head, knowing these people, this life you have made in this city, will be incredibly short lived. Right when you feel rooted somewhere, those roots are pulled from under you. I do trust the Lord, though. I do. I may not understand His reasons, but I trust them. He will take care of me. In my loneliness and search for new friends, He will be my companion and guide. If I can not be rooted in a permanent home, I will have to root myself deep in Him.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Home is Where the Heart Is
My Godfather is an amazing man. I have spent many hours sitting in conversation with him trying to soak up his wisdom and advice. When I was about to move away from home and embark on the military life a few years ago, he said something that I think of often. As I was sharing with him my anxiety about leaving my family he told me, "Andrea there is a lot of truth to the term 'home is where the heart is' and I think your anxiety stems from your young age. You will learn, over time, that home is not where your parents are, or the town you grew up in, but it is the place where your husband and children are."
Flash forward two years later after living away from home for a year. My in-laws, also very wise people, give my husband advice that I also think of often. There advice was, "you are not an island. Just because you move away from home, you can't separate yourself from the one's you left behind. They are still your family."
To be honest, I don't think I have really learned or embraced my godfather's advice yet. I still cry every time my children have to say goodbye to their grandparents and my heart still really desires to live closer to them. I struggle with this a lot because my head wants to tell God, "Your will be done Lord, send us where you please next tour", while my heart cries, "Please Lord just send us somewhere close to home. Close to our family." I know most people in society today would say it's good to get away from your parents and the place where you grew up; to become independent and separate yourselves. But to be honest I don't feel that way.
I want my kids to know their grandparents and aunts and uncles, not just visit them twice a year. Am I saying I want to move in next door to my parents or in-laws? No, but driving distance would be nice. Yes, it would be cool to tell people we spent two years in Europe and yes it is a once and a lifetime opportunity. But how does that compare to having a personal relationship with extended family? How does travel around the country compare to memories of your grandfather teaching you to fish, or laughing up a storm in the living room with that grandma who dances every time a song comes on? Everyday memories, not just holiday memories.
Maybe I just need to spend more time embracing my family here and not thinking so much about what comes next or where we will be stationed. Maybe I just need more time to "grow up" and I won't feel this way anymore. But I wish it would happen soon so my heart would stop hurting and learn where home really is.
Flash forward two years later after living away from home for a year. My in-laws, also very wise people, give my husband advice that I also think of often. There advice was, "you are not an island. Just because you move away from home, you can't separate yourself from the one's you left behind. They are still your family."
To be honest, I don't think I have really learned or embraced my godfather's advice yet. I still cry every time my children have to say goodbye to their grandparents and my heart still really desires to live closer to them. I struggle with this a lot because my head wants to tell God, "Your will be done Lord, send us where you please next tour", while my heart cries, "Please Lord just send us somewhere close to home. Close to our family." I know most people in society today would say it's good to get away from your parents and the place where you grew up; to become independent and separate yourselves. But to be honest I don't feel that way.
I want my kids to know their grandparents and aunts and uncles, not just visit them twice a year. Am I saying I want to move in next door to my parents or in-laws? No, but driving distance would be nice. Yes, it would be cool to tell people we spent two years in Europe and yes it is a once and a lifetime opportunity. But how does that compare to having a personal relationship with extended family? How does travel around the country compare to memories of your grandfather teaching you to fish, or laughing up a storm in the living room with that grandma who dances every time a song comes on? Everyday memories, not just holiday memories.
Maybe I just need to spend more time embracing my family here and not thinking so much about what comes next or where we will be stationed. Maybe I just need more time to "grow up" and I won't feel this way anymore. But I wish it would happen soon so my heart would stop hurting and learn where home really is.
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